Binding Spell
by Mersid
Summary: The lives of Rezo and Zelgadis, from before Rezo's birth, to Zelgadis's chimeradom. Complete. Please Read-n-Review!
1. Light

"Our descendants will be strong."  
  
"Our children will be wise."  
  
"These things will bring balance to the world."  
  
"Yes, these things are good," said Lei Magnus, completing the ritual. They had said the same words at the births of their two prior children, but today they had a different meaning. This would be their last child. Three children, that was the agreement. The first two had no magic and were sent to live with normal families. Lei had hated to send his children away, but they couldn't live with L-Sama and he had to stay until a magical child was born, or the third child was born, whichever came first.  
  
L-Sama held the child, smiling broadly. "He has latent magic. It will appear in later generations." Lei didn't wholly trust that random chance determined how much of what type of magic appeared in his children, but he had little say in the matter. "You may take him and return to the mortal world. Once he is grown and has at least one child, five years of age, cast this." She handed him a spell. "You will meet each of his descendants and test their magical skill. When you find the one, you will know. Give him this." She held out a small rattle, with a red stone and jangling metal rings. "Bind him to it. Then you will sleep again."  
  
Lei declined his head respectfully. "I will. Are they to know that-"  
  
"You need not tell them. They will know."  
  
Lei wanted to ask how, when, in what way, but four years in L-Sama's company had taught him to simply accept what he was told. He took the child and cradled it. "What is his name?"  
  
"Your choice. It's of no consequence." L-Sama murmured a spell, though that was, technically, unnecessary, and Lei found himself in his house, unchanged from the time he had left.  
  
Young Taben was quick and strong, albeit mildly mischievous. He, like most boys his age, took simple pleasure in dropping spiders on girls and hiding the teacher's books. He married a nice young lady and had a daughter. Lei came after the birth and searched the child's mind. The magic was there, but still latent. On the girl's fifth birthday, he cast the spell L-Sama had given him, and he slept.  
  
He awoke many times to check each descendant, but the magic remained hidden, for five, six, seven generations. At the same time, a rumor had sprung up that Taben was L-Sama's child. Lei strongly suspected that L-Sama had designed that rumor and nurtured its growth. Lei slept again, this time for almost twelve years.  
  
***********  
  
"It is a boy!" crowed the midwife, still delighted by the squirming, messy, infant in her hands. She slapped his face gently to make him breathe and handed him to his mother, Kylenna.  
  
She smiled warmly, saying "beautiful" and "precious" as all mothers do. She took a cloth and wiped the afterbirth off of the child's face. "Oh, he's-" she stopped suddenly, noticing for the first time. "Why aren't his eyes open?"  
  
The midwife held the baby and gently opened his eyes. They were darkly glazed. "I'm sorry, the child is blind."  
  
"Why? How? Will he get better? Will-" a knock at the door silenced Kylenna.  
  
"Who is it?" asked the midwife, irritably.  
  
"Lei Magnus. Kylenna knows. I must see the child."  
  
Kylenna felt her heart quicken. She had seen Lei on a few occasions, the birth of her brother and her cousins. He knew a great deal of white magic. She nodded to the midwife and pulled a blanket over herself, "Let him in."  
  
Lei entered silently and touched the baby's forehead. "He is strong." Lei entered the boy's mind and dropped to his knees with the force. This was the descendant and, less that astonishingly, L-Sama had been right. He was drawn out of his reverie by the boy's mother.  
  
"He is blind. Can you fix him?"  
  
"He isn't broken."  
  
"Please, you know white magic. If you can, let him see."  
  
"I cannot. That which causes his blindness is stronger than I." Lei changed the subject rapidly, pulling a rattle out of his cloak. "This is for him. Make sure he always has it." He put the rattle in the boy's hand. The child, to the surprise of both the midwife and the mother, clasped the rattle, a skill come months too soon. Lei cast a short spell, binding the rattle and child. Without it, the boy would cry inconsolably, a simple precaution against loosing the Staff of the Gods. "Rejoice, you have a strong son. He is good and wise." Lei gave the child back to its mother.  
  
Kylenna found she trusted Lei's words. If he said her son was good and wise, then her son was good and wise. She smiled once more. "Are you going to name him?"  
  
"Akahoushi Rezo is his name. Whether or not you call him that is up to you. Good evening." Lei quietly left, leaving an extremely puzzled midwife, a joyful mother, and a smiling baby, shaking his rattle.  
  
***********  
  
Though it soon became clear that 'Aka-chan' ill-fitted the boy, his mother decided to retain the name given him by Lei. Lei, who, incidentally, didn't come to birthings anymore. Aka was cheerful, a quick study, and skilled in magic. By his eighth birthday, he could already cast complex spells that were too difficult for most adults. He was also introverted and slightly warped, but neither of these was inherently bad. The rattle had grown along with the boy, turning into a staff by the time he could walk confidently. He almost never let go of it. Interestingly, Aka was four before his family learned that the staff gave him a sense of where things were. To him, it had seemed obvious; no need to explain to them. No one tells his parents that he uses his nose to breathe. To them, their slightly unreasonable son refused to stray far from an odd-looking stick.  
  
***********  
  
Aka set down his staff; he needed both of his hands and none of his sight. He opened the polished casing and took out his violin. He placed his fingers by memory and ran the bow across experimentally. The notes easily made their way from his mind to his hand to his ears and back to his mind. E, B, D, B, E, B, A, F-sharp, D, F-sharp. So easy and so fun! He absently played scales, thinking about the day. School had been pointedly irrelevant and the other boys had been pushy. He smiled, thinking about whomping one or two with his staff, but withdrew the thought as he immediately knew it was wrong.  
  
It was frustrating, not being able to see. The other boys seemed to think that taking his staff was great fun. Mostly, he missed color. A few called him "Rezo the Red Preist", though he really wasn't a preist yet, and he had no clue what red was. He dwelt on that though momentarily. Could he actually miss color, since he had never had it? Nuances of language had always amused him and this was no exception.  
  
"Aka! Lei Magnus is here to see you!" called his father, rather loudly, aware of his son's tendency to slip off into thought. Obren eyed the man suspiciously. He had never particularly trusted Lei, especially after he had given Aka that bizarre staff, but Kylenna respected him, so Lei's occasional meetings with Aka were tolerated, though not welcomed.  
  
Aka came slowly down the stairs, his hand trailing against the wall. "Uncle Lei? Is that you?" 'Uncle' was the agreed-upon relation, though in actuality, as both knew, Aka was eight generations away from the still- young man.  
  
"Akahoushi, it is good to see you! You've grown a lot."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Come," he beckoned, "take a walk with me." Aka nodded at the familiarity. Uncle Lei always requested a walk, mostly as a way of having an extended discussion without interupption. Actually, Aka noted, there was very little discussion. Lei did most of the talking, telling the young boy old stories and myths, history, philosophy, and sorcery. Aka always took in all of this and spent the interval of Lei's absence considering it.  
  
***********  
  
"This is the last time I will meet with you."  
  
"Why?" Aka asked his favorite question, causing Lei to realize why a descendant of L-Sama was needed, and not Lei himself: Anyone wise enough to do Rezo's future work wouldn't accept plain fact well enough to deal with the Lord of Nightmares.  
  
"Because that is the way it is prescribed. Besides, I have taught you all I can."  
  
"That's not true! There is still much to learn!"  
  
"But little I can teach you. That is not my place. Where is your place?"  
  
Aka hesitated breifly, then answered, "I am Akahoushi Rezo, the Red Priest. That is my place."  
  
"Be mindful of that. Let me touch your mind." Aka nodded; Lei placed his hand on the boy's forehead. "You are good. Remain as such. I must leave now. Do you know the way back?"  
  
Aka felt breifly confused. His walks with Lei were usually much longer. Also, he had been listening carefully, rather than paying attention to where he was going. "No, sir, I don't."  
  
"All right, then," said Lei, proud of the young man. He muttered a spell and Aka felt the familiar wood his wall against his back and his bed beneath his legs; he was back in his room.  
  
***********  
  
The years passed quickly for Aka, and soon he was no longer a child. His parents were worried, though not in the least surprised, when he set out on his own at age seventeen. He went from town to town, healing, telling pertinent stories, and teaching. For the first year, perhaps two, people didn't believe he was worth listening to, then word spread.  
  
***********  
  
The eight-year-old boy sat up sharply, looking around, trying to find the source of the... "Mama! Mama! Rezo the Red Priest is here! I hear his staff!"  
  
The mother inclined her ear carefully, listening for the telltale jangle her son had picked out. "Salan," she cautioned, "he's probably very busy. He might not have time to fix your eyes."  
  
The boy shook his head vigorously. "He will, Mama. I know so. He's blind, you know."  
  
"Blind, hmm? Why doesn't he cure himself?"  
  
The staff rang shortly and a quiet voice answered. "Becuase I can't, perhaps I wasn't meant to." He stepped to the side, in front of Salan. "What is your name?"  
  
Salan suddenly found that his tongue barely obeyed his mind. "I'm...I'm S- Salan, Mr. Red Priest sir."  
  
Rezo laughed. "Please, just call me Rezo. Simpler, hmm?"  
  
"Uh, yes sir, I mean, Rezo."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"I want to see again. I got sick when I was little and went blind."  
  
Rezo mmm-hmmed thoughtfully. "So why is it you want to see?"  
  
The boy paused, not having considered the question. "I wanna know what stuff looks like, what colors things are." Rezo mmm-hmmed again. "I want to know what people look like, too."  
  
"A good set of reasons, but be careful. Sometimes things look one way, but they are, in fact, another. This is easy to forget."  
  
"I'll remember sir, I mean, Rezo."  
  
"All right then. There's going to be some noise and a bright flash of light, like stepping from shade to sun ten times over. Understand?"  
  
"Yes." The questions were really unnecesary, since Rezo had never been very good at detecing liars, but people trusted his words. A physical change was so often accompanied by a spiritual one; he thought it good to give people a thought to consider.  
  
Rezo held his hands over the boy's face and murmured softly; he had never developed the practice of saying incantations so hat they were very audible. There was an odd rumbling noise that only Rezo and Salan heard and the promised flash of light. The boy turned his head from side to side, adjusting to the light. "Wow! It's so pretty!" said Salan, practically spinning in circles to see as much as he could. He hugged a rather embarressed Red Priest, saying "Thank you!" over an d over again. He dropped down and looked (!) at his mother. "Mama, everything looks pretty!"  
  
Rezo smiled, "I think he likes it."  
  
The mother laughed. "Thank you so much, sir. He's...he's always wanted to see."  
  
"I'm - uh - happy to help." Two years, thought Rezo. Two years, and I still can't figure out a good way to take thanks. "Have a nice evening," he said, and walked steadily away.  
  
***********  
  
The years passed and Rezo becamed reknowned. He was recognized as a Great Sage for his travels and his wisdom. Judges sought his advice now. He got to know a woman named Aline and conceived a daughter, but Aline married another man before the child was born. She was named Cabre. Rezo returned to his travels, with the child never recognized as his. Years later, he married a woman named Jeru. They also had a daughter, named Linoa, but Jeru died. The Great Sage, unable to raise the girl by himself, sent her to live with her mother's sister. His travels continued.  
  
Rezo became increasingly bothered by the lack of his sight. He had spent his whole life serving and helping others. Why, why couldn't this one, little favor be granted him? But bitterness makes a poor mortar when one is trying to build a life, so Rezo dismissed the thought as best he could. While he did take a special interest spells and objects of healing, he continued his work as a Great Sage; he travelled, healed, spoke when there was a need.  
  
He visited his daughter as often as possible, but soon realized that her aunt and uncle were her parent figures and he was just an occasional guest. The world grew around him, but Rezo stayed young. At an age of over two hundred years, people still guessed him thirty. The world continues.  
  
His children grew. Cabre, his daughter with Aline, had born two sons, named Algri and Vaq Greywords. The thought of Aline always made him sad. Her family refused to acknowledge him as Cabre's father. The thought of Linoa reminded him that this might be for the best. Linoa. She had grown too. Grown and, he had heard, found a husband. Named Algri.  
  
Rezo supposed he ought to tell them, but they were so happy together...they were only second cousins. He allowed himself to rationalize that he shouldn't betray the wishes of Aline because, despite his inattentiveness, he did love his children. They were happy. That, he told himself, was what mattered.  
  
***********  
  
Shabranigdo shivered in revulsion. Akahoushi Rezo was sickeningly concerned with the well being of others, disgustingly nice. Lesser mazoku would've found his mind impossible to occupy, but Shabranigdo knew the value of patience. There would be time enough to relish the pain, to enjoy the chaos.  
  
***********  
  
"It is a boy!" crowed the midwife, still delighted by the squirming, messy, infant in her hands. She slapped his face gently to make him breathe and handed him to his mother, Linoa.  
  
She smiled at this, her third child. A boy named Glehinre, a girl named Sarij, and now, a son named... "His name is Zelgadis," she told the midwife. "Go, tell his father!"  
  
The midwife nodded and left quietly. Linoa smiled and tapped the boy's nose gently. "Such a beautiful little boy." His siblings were fourteen and twelve, respectively. She touched his mind, carefully looking through what was mostly void for...for...so little magic! As a descendant of Rezo, Linoa had been a strong sorceress, as had her first two children. Zelgadis-chan, though, he posessed very little magic.  
  
***********  
  
The Lord of Nightmares looked on, silently debating whether or not she should feel guilty about what she had done. The child had never requested involvement. But then, neither had Rezo. Ah well, there must be balance.  
  
***********  
  
The boy grew normally despite his lack of magic, though he was on the small side. Shy, but talkative around family, Zel-chan was particularly fond of his grandfather. The tall man with the staff may've been initially intimidating, but the natural learner in Zel took over when Rezo offered information. Rezo appeared at frequent, but random intervals to visit his family.  
  
***********  
  
Zelgadis, proud of his recently attained four years, completed his schoolwork as quickly as he could in the firelight of early night. "Mama?" he said, "Are those people yelling?"  
  
"Which people?"  
  
"I don't know. I hear yelling coming from that way." Zel pointed northwest.  
  
Linoa kissed his forehead. "I wouldn't worry about them, sweetie. I'd worry about the fact that tree has another 'e' in it."  
  
Zel giggled and corrected the word. "But Mama, they're coming closer!"  
  
By now, Linoa could hear the yelling. "Finish your work, okay? I'll go see what's going on." When Zel nodded silently, Linoa went into the next room, where Algri was. "You hear them?"  
  
"Yes. What do you think has happened?"  
  
Linoa let out a drawn-out breath. "Maybe there has been some kind of disturbance in the village."  
  
Algri nodded contemplatively. "Maybe." The yelling was much louder now. "We should -" Algri stopped speaking to look at the open door.  
  
A man with dark hair and light eyes glared in from the doorway. "Where is the staff?" he said forcefully.  
  
Linoa, not intimidated by the man, spoke, "We don't have it." She cast a defensive ward against them. Algri restained a glance back at the slight click of a cupboard. So that's where Zel-chan had gone.  
  
The man laughed. "Then you're of no use to me!" One of his minions, a short, balding, green eyed man, stepped forward.  
  
He grinned vaguely and drew his green-glowing sword. The barrier collapsed and Linoa fell to the ground. Algri knelt next to her, casting a healing spell as quickly as he could. The man slashed again and Algri fell.  
  
Zel covered his ears tightly. There were no yelling people. There was no smell of blood. There was no shouting. There were no sounds of his mother and father mumbling, "Please, please, no, no, I don't want to die." None of these things were; his parents were not dead. Zel tried to be as still as possible, not to move, not to breathe. He imagined he was very very far far away.  
  
***********  
  
Rezo gently pushed open the door, calling Zelgadis's name softly. "Zel? It's me, Rezo, your Grandfather. Zel?" He didn't really need an answer to know that Zel was hidden in the cupboard; the smell of urine and vomit made that much clear. "Can we talk for a minute?"  
  
"Talk."  
  
"Okay. What should I talk about?"  
  
Zel took an uneven series of breaths, holding back tears. "Make them come back."  
  
"Make who?" replied Rezo, genuinely confused.  
  
"My Mama and Papa. You can do stuff like that. Bring them back."  
  
"I'm sorry. I can't do that, Zel. I can't bring dead people back to life."  
  
The cupboard door swung open, with an angry-looking Zelgadis right behind it. "Liar!"  
  
"I might not answer all of your questions, but I promise I will never lie to you."  
  
He glared up at Rezo. "Make them come back! I want my Mama and Papa! I want them back!" More uneven breaths and a sniffle. "I want 'em back," he said, more quietly, "Bring 'em back."  
  
Rezo held out his hand. "Why don't you come with me and we can talk, okay?"  
  
Zel gave another sniffle and clasped his Grandfather's thumb. He didn't particularly want to talk, so they walked towards Rezo's Tower in silence. After about half an hour, Zel stopped. "I'm tired."  
  
"We're almost there. I'll carry you the rest of the way, if you'd like."  
  
Zel looked down, ashamed. "But I'm all messy."  
  
Rezo smiled kindly and picked up the boy. "That's all right. Don't worry about it." Soon Zel was asleep, twitching and mumbling in some dream. Rezo silently entered the tower and carried his grandson up the stairs, laying him on a bed. Zel twitched again and opened his eyes. He saw Rezo and went back to sleep.  
  
***********  
  
"How about a bedtime story?"  
  
"You can't read me a story; you're blind!"  
  
Zel had only been at the Tower for three days. He had been greatly unnerved by the landscape and the rooms' tendency to change locations. Perhaps now was a poor time to explain enchanted ink to him. "Who said anything about reading? I was planning on telling you a bedtime story."  
  
"Oh, okay. What kind of story?"  
  
"How about a story about a prince? Is that kind okay?"  
  
Zel nodded, then remembered that that wouldn't work and said, "Yeah," quietly.  
  
Rezo smiled again. He did that frequently. "All right, once upon a time, there was a prince named...oh, I don't know...how about Zelgadis?" Zel's appreciative giggle was answer enough. "And the prince was very clever. The prince was also very sad. You see, while he had just inherited the throne, the king and queen had died. Furthermore, the prince was worried because he wasn't quite sure how to run a kingdom. So, he was very upset when he heard that a big, strong giant was attacking the southern end of his kingdom.  
  
"Prince Zelgadis finally decided to go talk to the giant. He planned on saying something very brave, like, 'Giant, get out of my kingdom!' but when he saw the giant, who was fifty feet tall and ten feet wide, Zel didn't know what to do. So, the giant spoke first, saying, 'How about a contest? If you win, I leave, and if I win, you leave.' The prince felt a little braver and said, 'What kind of contest?' 'A contest of strength,' the giant said.  
  
"The prince was very worried. What would he do now? 'Here's how it works,' the giant said. 'Each of us will pick a stone to throw up in the air. Whoever's stone stays in the air longer wins.' Prince Zel, deciding that this was the best chance for his kingdom, agreed.  
  
"He went home and paced back and forth, nervously. How could he possibly win this contest with the giant? He was much smaller; his stone wouldn't go very high. Then, suddenly, he thought of an idea! With a plan thought up, Zel went back to bed, knowing that he at least had a chance now.  
  
"The next morning, Zel got up and met the giant in a large clearing. The giant went first, pulling a tiny pebble out of his pocket. He threw it up and up and up and then it came down and down and down. It was in the air a very long time. The prince pretended to be nervous, so the giant wouldn't guess that he had a plan. He pulled a tiny, baby bird out of his pocket and tossed it into the sky. It went up and up and up...and up some more...still going up...and it never came down! Well, prince Zel won that contest for sure and the giant went far away from the kingdom and never returned."  
  
Zel giggled again. "I like that story, Grandfather."  
  
Thought Zel was eventually introduced to the idea of enchanted ink, the stories became a vague tradition, sometimes a lesson, sometimes a comfort, sometimes pure fun.  
  
***********  
  
Shabranigdo felt his power grow. Slowly. Impetuousness would gain nothing. Today, though, he felt strong. Strong enough to make the first move. He cast a spell, a simple binding on Rezo's mind. It would be years before the Red Priest noticed. Of course, from the time the spell was cast, Rezo became incapable of saying, "Oh, by the way, there's a Dark Lord gaining power in my mind," but such a statement wouldn't occur to him for at least a year. Patience.  
  
***********  
  
"Grandfather! Grandfather, can you make it fly?" Zel held up a smooth wooden bird he had bought in town. "Please?" Zel used his best convincing voice.  
  
"Hmmm, let's see." Rezo took the bird and turned it over in his hands. "I think that can be arranged." He smiled and whispered a spell on the bird as he tossed it lightly into the air. It floated up slowly, then dived down around Zel's head, flying in uneven circles. Zel giggled delightedly and spun around, jumping to catch the bird which seemed to always fly just out of reach. Rezo smiled. Zel had had a difficult time after his parents died. Nightmares had kept the boy awake for almost a year. "Zel, come here. Give me your hands."  
  
Zel obediently put his hands inside Rezo's. Moving slowly back and forth, he could guide the bird. The boy giggled again and made the bird come to a soft landing at his feet. "Thank you, grandfather!" 


	2. Dark

Rezo looked carefully over the mathwork. He had been teaching Zel basic algebra as they had walked to the next city. Zelgadis admittedly missed a fair amount of school travelling with his grandfather, but he learned more from Rezo than he ever did from his teacher. "Good work, Zelgadis. They're all correct." He gave the boy a light pat on the back.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
Rezo furrowed his brow. "Zel? Are you okay?"  
  
Zel forced a normal voice. "Yeah, fine."  
  
"One does not generally say 'ow' when one is fine. I didn't touch your back that hard. Do you have a bruise on your back?" And, more importantly, why didn't you tell me?  
  
Zel kicked the dirt, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. "A group of boys at school pushes me around sometimes."  
  
"Oh," said Rezo, "I see."  
  
There was a short silence, stained by crickets and spring peepers.  
  
Finally, Rezo spoke, "Zel, have you ever seen a pack of cats hunting?"  
  
Zel furrowed his brow, a gesture that exacerbated the resemblance between him and his grandfather. He shifted slightly, as if the movement would shake forth the intended memory. "No, I guess I haven't."  
  
Rezo nodded. "And you won't, either. Cats aren't pack animals. What do cats hunt?"  
  
This time, Zel had an answer. "Mice, shrews, small birds, stuff like that."  
  
"Mmm-hmm, and are these things bigger or smaller than cats?"  
  
"Smaller."  
  
"Think of a pack animal, Zel."  
  
"Uhhh, how about hyenas?"  
  
"A little exotic, but they'll do. What do hyenas hunt?"  
  
"Lions!" said Zel, excitedly.  
  
"And lions are..."  
  
"Bigger," replied the mildly confused boy. Where was this going?  
  
"Well then, if these boys at school come at you in a pack, remember that: You're bigger."  
  
Zel smiled. "I like that." But Zel also drew a conclusion, or, more accurately, reaffirmed a conclusion he had already drawn when his parents had died: Anyone with more power, anyone stronger, they could hurt you. Didn't mean they would necessarily, Rezo was proof of that, but they could.  
  
************  
  
(Three days later)  
  
Rezo smiled pleasantly and adressed the woman in front of him, "Now, let's talk about your boy keeping his hands off of my grandson."  
  
************  
  
Zelgadis watched in silence. This was the second day of silently watching the two men. 'It was your choice to come!' Zel reminded himself. Rezo had been asked to mediate the development of a peace accord between two warring factions. Upon arriving, Rezo had informed the two leaders that they were not to speak or write for the duration of the deliberations.  
  
For the first three hours, Zel had been as puzzled as the leaders at the rules, but he quickly caught on. With no speech and a blind mediator, they would be forced to connect on some other level, hopefully developing an actual desire for peace. They had spent most of the first day staring at each other or pointing at the map which hung on the wall. Zel saw that Rezo had even set down his staff, rendering him entirely sightless. He wondered briefly is Rezo had any idea what was happening.  
  
During the second day, they had returned to their staring and pointing. The only meaningful gesture Zel had seen was, "Let's eat." on behalf of the Zagros representative. Finally, around three o'clock, Rezo spoke. "So, what have you decided?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"You may speak now, friends." Rezo had the habit of calling even people he found despicable, 'friend.' "What have you decided?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Well, sir..." The Zagros consul started and trailed off.  
  
"We haven't actually decided anything," finished the Corabrant duke.  
  
"Really? What did you do this whole time?"  
  
The two leaders stumbled through a series of "Well..." and "Really..." and "Uh...".  
  
"Just glanced around the room, yes?"  
  
"Yes, Rezo."  
  
"And what have you concluded?"  
  
The Zagros consul, young and sarcastic, was mildly frustrated with this game. "The rocks are nice. The window is nice. The table is okay, though the ornamentation is rough."  
  
The duke cringed at the disrespect, but Rezo laughed. "Well, friend, it is nice to see you have a sense of humor!" The leaders exchanged glances; for all of his wisdom, Rezo was wierd. "I propose a simple plan, then. Zagros, cease your retaliation. Corabrant, the Zagros are not to be punished. Free trade of goods and information will resume. If violence continues on either side, we will convene again." The plan would've been scoffed at, had Rezo mentioned it earlier in the deliberations, but after two days of staring at each other, the duke and consul were ready to consider a deal.  
  
The Corabrant leader turned to Rezo, still defiant. "My people deserve revenge!"  
  
"Do they? Do they not also deserve peace? Do they not deserve to see their sons live to adulthood?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Then I agree to the treaty."  
  
"As do I."  
  
***********  
  
Rezo had become increasingly bothered by his blindness. He devoted his life to healing others! Was it so much to ask, this one, little thing? To see, to watch, to know what red was and what his grandson looked like. Shabranigdo welcomed these most useful feelings and nurtured them as best he could without alerting Rezo. He saved his strength. Soon. Very soon he would be able to take control of Rezo, if only for a short time. The agony would be delicious.  
  
***********  
  
Rezo tapped his fingers on his forehead, contemplating the...satisfaction he had felt today. Zel's fear...afraid of you. He was afraid of you, some inner voice said. Might as well say it out loud. Truth is frequently difficult, but never evil. "He was afraid of me. Zelgadis was afraid of me. My own grandson was afraid of me." Say it. Say the rest. "And I liked it."  
  
No one was in the deserted upper eschelons of the tower. No one heard, but Rezo's shame was almost overwhelming. He felt dirty, disgusting, unclean. He ran his fingers over the stone over and over again, hoping that the heat would burn away the impurities.  
  
Unclean. Zel's blood. It was on his robes, he knew. He vaguely touched the blood spot, six inches wide. He suddenly wanted the blood away from him and pulled his outermost robe off over his head, his hands shaking so erratically that he could barely unhook the clasp. He touched the same spot on his next robe. Still bloody. He pulled that one off too. Kept taking off his clothes until only his underwear, the only garment not touched by the blood, was left. He threw the rest of his clothes in the corner opposite him, as if physically separating himself from the blood would make him clean. Forgiven.  
  
He dropped to the floor in the corner opposite his clothes, pounding his head lightly against the stone. No, the pain would do Zelgadis no good. Nothing would do Zelgadis any good, not with that delicious fe- No. Don't think delicious fear. Don't think about how hungry you are and about how good his fear made you feel. Don't think about the fact that he's in his room, angry and afraid and part of you likes it. Don't-  
  
A knock at the door. "Can I come in, Grandfather? I had a scary dream." Zel sounded uncertain, worried.  
  
"Sure. Wait one moment." Rezo threw the robes into his closet and pulled a longshirt over his head. He furrowed his brow, trying to decide what to say, how to- he opened the door.  
  
Zel blinked repeatedly and found the floor fascinating. "I had a nightmare, Grandfather. You were there. You were angry."  
  
"I see. Was anyone else there?"  
  
"No. Just you and me in the tower."  
  
"Hmmm, what happened?" Please, gods, no.  
  
"You cast a spell that held me still. I didn't like that, being still. I wanted very much to wake up."  
  
"Mm-hmm, and then?" No, I'm sorry. I'm already sorry. Please, no.  
  
"You said, 'Weak little boy,' because I was crying. You said, 'Are you crying?' I said 'no,' even though I was. I hoped you wouldn't see. You said 'A weakling and a liar!' and cast a spell. It burned really bad, so I tried to go outside, where the water was. You-" Please don't say it Zel. I can't bare to hear what I did from your mouth. "caught my arm and broke it. It was all hurt and bloody."  
  
***********  
  
Shabranigdo smiled.  
  
***********  
  
Zelgadis Greywyrds felt slightly ashamed that, at age eleven, he still went to his grandfather carrying a nightmare. He walked slowly, quietly down the stairwell, glancing around himself as if the stones were spies. He turned, staring up the stairs, and saw nothing there. But for some reason, his eyes couldn't convince his mind and he began to run. No reason, no cause, just a stupid dream.  
  
He kept running, his feet slapping the ground sounding like bones snapping like his arm in the dream like Grandfather let me go I don't want to be still what did I do so wrong that Grandfather would hurt me weak weak weak I really tried not to cry.  
  
Zel stopped, craning his head to see where his feet had carried him. The hall from his dream; why here? He stepped slowly in, trailing his heel on the pale tiles. He surveyed the room evenly, unsure of what he was looking for. Painting. Tile. Window. Tile. More tile. More tile. More- a spill on the tile. Red, like his dream.  
  
Zelgadis padded softly towards the stain, almost like he was hunting it, as if the slightest false move would make it dissapear. In his dream, Grandfather had fixed his arm, but the blood had remained on the floor. If he shut his eyes very tight then the blood wasn't there and it was just a dream and-  
  
Zel ran his fingers across the floor, all energy draining out of him as the tips of his digits graced warm, sticky blood, drawing it out into red lines across the floor. He opened his eyes. This was wrong. This was very wrong. If grandfather could hurt him, there was nothing right in the world. He remembered his old mantra, 'anyone who is stronger could hurt you,' and drew another conclusion: Anyone stronger, anyone with more power, would hurt you. It was just a matter of time.  
  
***********  
  
Rezo spent more and more time in his lab, away from Zelgadis. Zel no longer trusted him. Behind whatever his grandson said were fear and anger. And Rezo could feel himself drinking from the sweet darkness. He almost never had control of himself now, spent most of his time in a room his mind had made. It was empty, but not silent. He could hear what his body heard and feel what his body felt. Zel's stifled sobs and angry words still reached his ears, but so did the satisfaction of satiating the biting hunger he felt.  
  
And Rezo fought, every ounce of strength and will going towards pounding on the walls of the empty room, staying in his lab. Shabranigdo aquiesced, settling for a few, brief attacks when Rezo was too tired to fight, but the gag spell proved effective; Rezo found certain thoughts he couldn't vioce.  
  
And Rezo heard. He heard Zel scream as the memory of his parents' death was played back in the boy's mind. He heard Zel quietly praying to 'Gods, Dragons...even Mazoku...anyone who can hear me.' as he walked past the door. He heard Zelgadis angrily announce that he hated Rezo, with a crack in his voice, barely held together through the pain. A spell attack and another. Sometimes physical attacks, Rezo could feel his grandson's skin, sometimes his bones, always a little weaker than those of other boys, give way.  
  
And Rezo felt the last bit of control slip away.  
  
***********  
  
Zelgadis rapped his head lightly against the floor, hoping the dull ache would distract him from his throbbing left side. Angry at him for no discernable reason, Rezo had physically thrown his grandson at a stone wall. Zel tried to clear his head and think; to list options, choices, paths. Strength was the key. More power; less pain. A simple equation. And from where would he derive power?  
  
Rezo.  
  
Rezo had power; strength. Had the power to make Zelgadis strong. Zel shuddered, wondering what he would have to pay. He absently rapped his fingers gently against the stone in a cyclic pattern and ran his tongue against his teeth. Though he knew it was pointless, his mind reminded him how important it was that he choose correctly; he would have to make an irrevocable decision. The boy was reasonable enough to recognize that some of Rezo's earlier advice was still valid. "List the facts, Zel. Try to break ideas down into the simplest cause-and-effect statements possible."  
  
Zel recalled the advice (It had been given as he had struggled over a particularly difficult logic problem.) involuntarily. Just because he knew Rezo's words had value didn't mean he liked the fact. Simplest fact: If he received strength from Rezo, there would be a price.  
  
***********  
  
Zelgadis's first thought was, 'This is very wrong. Something is very wrong.' Rezo had considered Zel's request and agreed. He would give the boy strength, no strings, no requests, nothing in return. The offer was suspicious, but enticing. Was it possible that a remnant of the kindly priest who used to make wooden toys fly had issued the proposal? Pain overcame paranoia. He agreed.  
  
Flashes of darkness and light crept from his peripheral vision into his entire body and his skin felt like fire.  
  
His bones stretched and contorted.  
  
Who is that, screaming?  
  
Oh, I'm screaming.  
  
He looked at his hands, the stone figures that insisted they belonged to him.  
  
***********  
  
Shabranigdo laughed.  
  
Rezo wept. 


End file.
